Chapter 6

Early the morning after his release from jail, Garrett staggered from his bed—well, not so early actually, it was nearly noon—and made himself a pot of coffee. He sat on his covered balcony overlooking the main street of his hometown while he drank the bracing elixir. He decided to pack up his old Ranger FX4 and disappear to his camping spots along the stream running through his farm. He needed the solitude and calming influence of his little plot of ground before returning to his daily grind.

After his coffee pot was empty, Garrett packed the food he thought he would need for his three-day stay and loaded everything into his truck. He usually kept his fishing gear and weapons in the truck, so he was ready to go. Now, as usual, he wished there was a store in town where he could add to his food supplies and buy some alcohol, but there wasn’t. He made a slight detour to pick up those items he wanted but didn’t have at home, then hurried to his camp.

When he got to his favorite camp spot, Garrett didn’t tarry. He set out to erect his tent made from a couple of plastic tarps, then laid his fire for later. He grabbed a beer and his chair, then sat, listening to the sounds he loved so much. He watched the stream flow past and an occasional fish break the surface of the water in the deep pool beside which he camped. In the distance, there was the sound of an old square baler and tractor as one of the neighbors bailed a small field of alfalfa hay. Occasionally, a cow would low or a rooster crow. Garrett felt the tension flow out of his tense body as the peace embraced him, and he soaked up the calming country sounds.

As dusk was falling, Garrett rose and pulled his fishing pole from his truck. He searched around until he caught a few grasshoppers and a couple of grub worms, then headed to the river to catch his supper and breakfast.

The fish seemed to bite the worms better than the grasshoppers. Within thirty minutes, he caught two nice crappie and called it a day. One of the fish he left on a stringer for the morning, the other he quickly cleaned and took back to his camp for supper.

Before the next hour was up, Garrett had prepared his supper of fried crappie, fried potatoes and onions, and a small can of pork and beans, eaten it, and cleaned up after himself. He lay out his sleeping bag and relaxed on it, his hands under his head, as he listened to the evening sounds. There were all types of chirps, croaks, and other sounds as the wildlife wandered around. He especially liked to listen to the splash of jumping fish and the spring peepers as night fell, cloaking the land in relaxing darkness and silence not found in cities or even in the small town where he lived.

Garrett woke with the sun the next morning and quickly prepared his coffee. While the coffee perked, he stripped and went into the cool water for a relaxing swim to wash the grungy feeling of dried sweat off his body from the previous night’s heat.

Garrett didn’t bother dressing after his swim. He poured his first cup of coffee and sat beside the stream, drinking it. He relaxed while watching the fog rise from the water and glow whitely in the just-rising sun. Birds flitted from place to place, and an occasional fish splashed in the slowly flowing water. By the time the sun was completely up, Garrett drank his coffee pot dry and was ready to prepare his breakfast. He fried several slices of bacon, an egg, and more potatoes and onions for the first meal of the day, deciding to keep the fish for later.

After breakfast was completed and the dishes washed, Garrett pulled on a pair of old, ratty shorts, picked up his fishing gear, and wandered down to the stream. Instead of fishing in the pool beside his camp, he unlocked the chain holding his old Jon Boat to a tree and pulled it into the water. He moved back to a small 4x8 building, unlocked it, and took out a two-horsepower outboard motor and a gallon gas can from it. After attaching the motor to the boat, he returned to the shed for padding for the seat on the boat and two oars for emergency use. He picked up his cooler, filled with sandwich materials and drinks, for the day on his last trip to the boat.

Garrett started the motor and headed upstream at a slow pace. He relaxed back into the seat as the quietness of the river soothed him. Even the quiet operation of the boat motor wasn’t that bothersome to him. He slowly made his way upstream past beautiful old trees and the occasional cow or calf. He was in shade almost the entire way because of the huge tree canopies hanging over the stream. Finally, nearly two miles upstream from his starting point, Garrett stopped the engine and let the boat coast to a stop at the head of a long deep spot in the stream.

As the silence of the morning enveloped him, Garrett allowed the boat to find its way back downstream as the slow current took charge. Instead of immediately beginning to fish, he reached into his cooler and picked up his first beer of the day. He opened the can and leaned back in his seat after taking his first large sip. He stretched out his legs and relaxed as the banks of the stream slowly flowed past, and he slowly enjoyed his beer. In moments, the boat gently grounded in the shallow water near the bank, underneath a century-old oak tree. Garrett let the boat rest there until he finished his beer, then efficiently prepared his fishing rod for the first cast of the day.

As he grew tired of fishing in one spot, Garrett would use the oars to move his boat back into the current and let it drift slowly along. As the boat drifted, he continued to fish until it once again grounded, at which time he would either push off again or sit and fish for a while. From time to time, he would stop fishing and either have another beer or a sandwich and chips. He lost track of time completely. In fact, he hadn’t even bothered to bring a watch with him on the trip, much less on the excursion.

It was late mid-afternoon before Garrett slowly floated into sight of his campsite. He had caught his limit of crappie, so he decided to call it a day. He grounded his boat on the gravel bar beside his camp and began carrying his belongings up to the tent before he quit for the day.

When Garrett made his first trip up the bank, he saw a familiar figure sitting in his chair, drinking a beer. About the time he saw the figure, Kathy rose from the chair and said, “Damn you, Garrett, you worried me. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming out here today? When you didn’t answer your phone, I got worried you got too drunk last night and fell off your balcony or something. I drove to your place to check on you, and you weren’t there. I decided to come out here to see if you were here and to check on you. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, Kath. Sure felt like crap yesterday morning, though. I didn’t even get up until almost noon yesterday. What time did the party end, anyway?”

“Don’t know for sure. I woke up in my truck around 4:30, and everyone was gone, so I drove home. I haven’t gotten that ripped in a couple of years.”

“Yeah, me too. Sure glad the law didn’t come nosing around. Who brought all the beer and snacks, anyway? I know a couple of the guys there weren’t 21 yet, and we could have all been in trouble over that. Sure glad the Mayor wasn’t around to call the law on us.”

“Oh, Yeah. That was one of the things I wanted to tell you. I heard on the radio this morning that the Mayor was taken from the jail to the hospital. He mouthed off to one of the other inmates and got the bejesus beat out of him.”

Garrett laughed and said, “Well, at least this time they can’t blame me. Couldn’t have happened to a better guy. He hurt badly?”

“They didn’t say, just that he was taken to the hospital after a fight at the jail.” A group of reporters was nosing around town just before I left this morning, looking for you and bothering everyone to find out what we thought about it. I just blew them off after I said I had no idea where you were.”

While the two were talking, Kathy helped Garrett carry his things back to the storage unit and secure his boat to the tree well above the flood line once again. They then began cleaning the fish to prepare them for frying.

Garrett washed his hands after the fish were dressed and grabbed a beer. He tossed it to Kathy and took one out for himself, then sat in his chair to watch the stream flow past once again. Kathy pulled another chair up beside him and helped.

As the friends drank their beer, they talked. After a few general comments, Kathy looked over at Garrett and asked, “So, what now? You have a place to live, so what are your plans from here on out? Are you ever going to finish the work on your apartment? And what about the Bank? What are you going to do on the first floor? You need to take action regarding the old currency and items in the vault. Those old bills and coins are really valuable, I bet. We still need to check out everything in the safe deposit boxes, too.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m going to upgrade my apartment next, but I don’t have the money to do that right now, and I want to do it right. I want a really nice place, but one that’s also comfortable. I guess I’ll see if I can find someone who knows about the old money and see if a collector wants it or something.”

“Garrett, I’m sure a collector will want it. It’s simply a matter of determining how to unload it and obtain the best price for it. I think you need to call some auction houses in a large town that handle things like that and, maybe, some of the larger dealers to see what they think is the best way to sell the money.”